Hill Cypress Throw Your Hands In The Air Lyrics

Throw Your Hands In The Air Lyrics

featuring Def Squad Artists  MC Eiht  

  

 Intro: Sen Dog  

  

 Yeah  

 Bust how we gonna bounce off this ninety five Soul Assassins  

 Cypress Hill joint.  

 Yo we want everybody out there to throw their hands up...  

 ...so get it on kid!  

  

 Verse One: Erick Sermon  

  

 Fresh is the word  when I display my rappin forte  

 Quicker done than O.J.  hey  

 I freaks my shit  E the lyrical master  

 Stress me out, no doubt, I might have to blast ya  

 Let me ask ya, can I gets busy one time?  

 And unwind and chill, with Cypress Hill  

 Huh, I go on with my bad self  

 I'm the four pound toter, the Phil blunt smoker  

 Believe me not, I'm wicked like three sixes  

 I'm doper than the Pete Rock remixes  

 Never walk through the crowd sluggish  

 I'm hardcore to the Bone, I'm Thuggish Ruggish  

 The Green-Eyed, Bandit, I be ERRRICK SERRRMON  

 I gets real determined  

 And one for the trouble, and two for the bass  

 I take it to your face with this here lyrical mace  

 And if you don't know, y'all better recognize  

 I'm coming through with speed, with pounds of weed  

  

 Verse Two: B-Real  

  

 Ahh shit, another one of those gangsta hits  

 Niggaz wanna get busy with the ultimate  

 Fools get real, yo I'm representin the Hill  

 With chips and clips and tons of blue steel  

 So who wants to be the first nigga to die?  

 Then try and test this, buddha blessed Gemini  

 You get thrown sent home in a coffin  

 Punk stuff don't make it back, very often  

 I got Erick to take care of the Sermon  

 Ashes to ashes, dust, bodies burnin  

 Bustin open the doors to the temple  

 Takin you to the dark side of your mental  

  

 Chorus: B-Real  

  

 Kickin it to the brothers on the corners, in the alleys  

 Throw your hands in the air  

 Kickin it to the brothers on the corners, in the alleys  

 Throw your hands in the air  

  

 Chorus  

  

 Verse Three: Redman  

  

 I rhyme tricky, the sticky smoka with the mind itchy  

 finger up on the pen, be like "He the bomb, dicky!"  

 These off-keys MC's hawk me, they won't get off me  

 So I kill em softly and use em as walkie talkies *bzzzzt*  

 Turn up my level adjust my voice pitch  

 Hoist this diagnosis, comatosis  

 is what I leave your crew with, boom bip or some two and two shit  

 Raw silk, cuz YOU DO IT TO MY MUSIC  

 *Funk Doctor Spock* lock the hypest  

 individual, to put criminal in diapers  

 With my nigga E and Cypress, what I write bitch  

 You swore, it was a nuclear war, crisis  

 in your back yard, word to God, Def Squad!  

 With my nigga Keith in the place takin charge  

 Word up you'll get hurt up like the jury callin murder  

 You're deaf cuz I freak shit you neva heard of  

  

 Chorus  

  

 Verse Four: MC Eiht  

  

 Steppin to the park in the Hill you can't hang  

 The original baby gangsta on this Compton thang  

 Don't slip, the late night hype, is when I dip  

 Boo-yaa is the sound from a lonely clip  

 Can't feel me, if I was crack you'd try to steal me  

 Heard you, and your little crew, wanna peel me  

 Keep your hands on your hood, you get got  

 The Green-Eyed Bandit, Cypress Hill, and the Funk Doctor Spock  

 You wish you could hang, like I hang  

 Dwells in the C-P-T, the hood thing  

 G, the trigga finger, I'ma get you  

 Hit you, the Tech 9, I'ma split you  

 Ain't no poppin, no stoppin  

 Tick to the tock, tick tock I hit your block  

 Throw your hands in the air, don't bite this  

 I squeeze, nigga please, the E down with Cypress  

  

 Chorus  

  

 Chorus  

  

 Outro: Sen Dog  

  

 Aight, for everybody  

 All our peeps out on the corners  

 All the alleyways  

 For all our decesed  

 Incarcerated peeps, brothers on the streets  

 Nineteen ninety-five  

 Soul Assassins in your mind